LITMIR.BIZ

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to a meeting. A kind of revival meeting,” he replied.

      “A revival meeting. I ain’t heard of any such meeting around here. You sure ‘bout that?”

      “Yes Ma’am, there’s gonna be one down near Hickory Station. A shore ‘nough big ‘un.”

      Tim made his way down the open hall toward John’s room.

      Easing the door open Tim began to sing, “Shall we gather at the river, the beautiful, the beautiful river down near Hickory.”

      “Come on in Tim, I could recognize your voice anywhere. And by the way, you can’t carry a tune and your lyrics border on being sacrilegious. No wonder they never encouraged you to sing in the church choir.”

      Lying across the bed with a pillow folded under his neck and a book across his lap was Tim’s best friend, John Wilson. They had attended the same church and had been classmates in school until Tim quit in the eighth grade. Although Tim and John were total opposites, they had a special bond of friendship. John was serious and believed that honest hard work was the way to success and that education would open the doors of opportunity to those who persevered. John’s reputation of being the best student the local school had ever produced was a promise for his future, but the war and the effects it had upon his family had kept him at home and away from his dreams. Tim, in contrast, lived only for the day. As a youth he never cared for farming and the loss of his leg during the war made farming impossible. Instead, Tim loved to gamble, drink and carouse and had become so skilled at the cards that he made more than a meager living.

      Even as different as they were, they were inseparable. Since they had joined the same regiment during the war and had experienced the same horror and trials of combat, they had drawn even closer.

      Easing down in a chair next to John, Tim reached over and glanced at the cover of the book. “Thought you might be reading some of that ole Shakespeare the professor used to try to cram down our throats. You used to like that stuff, didn’t you?”

      “You know I never cared for that,” John replied, closing the book. “I’m reading about the Greek way of life. It’s fascinating to see how they formed their government. You know, their system is part of the foundation of how we operate today.”

      “Greeks,” Tim exclaimed, grabbing the book. “Let me see what you got yourself in to.”

      In a few minutes Tim handed the book back “Don’t look too interesting to me. Them folks been gone for a thousand years.”

      “Thousand years,” John replied. “Been longer than that and what do you like to read, nothing I bet.”

      Feeling somewhat offended, Tim responded, “I do read sometimes. I read the newspapers when I get a chance and things posted around on walls and I’ve read some of the Bible. So you see, I ain’t as illiterate as you think.”

      “Read anything in the last month,” John asked.

      Tim was silent for a moment and then replied, “You been to bed with any good-looking women in the last month, Mister Socrates.”

      John shook his head in disbelief and thought, here I am trying to show him the importance of reading and he completely turned the table on me.

      “No, I ain’t been to bed with any woman. How about you?” John asked.

      “Me neither,” laughed Tim. “I thought that might be a good way to shut you up. Now back to them Greeks. Why do you like reading that stuff?”

      John sat up on the side of the bed and after stretching answered, “Governments and law systems are what control the lives of people. Without law and order no one’s rights would be protected. We’d live in total chaos. Without our governments it would be a kill or be killed society.”

      “Well, I guess that kinda falls in line with what I came by to tell you,” Tim said. “You see there’s gonna be a special, secret meeting down near Hickory tonight and you and me has been invited.”

      With a question on his face, John asked, “What do you mean a secret meeting?”

      “You can’t tell a soul about what I’m gonna tell you, John, especially if’n you decide to go with me.”

      “You know me better than that, Tim.”

      “Well, there’s gonna be a get together down there tonight and there’s gonna be a high ranking confed’rate gen’ral who’s suppose to talk to us.”

      “Gen’ral!” John exclaimed. “What in tarnation about?”

      “Well, if’n you’ll shut up, I’ll tell you about it. Now as I was saying, this here meeting is the beginning of a movement to take our government back.”

      “Government back!” John said. “What kind of hair-brained joke you trying to play on me.”

      “It ain’t no joke,” Tim replied. “Folks here in the South is tired of them Northerners, sorry white Southerners and Negroes running things. We’re tired of the treatment they dishing out to us. Things fixing to change around here, Mister John Wilson and if’n you want to help us, you got an invitation.”

      John shook his head in disbelief. “Tim, the military gov’ment ain’t always gonna be around here. There’s gonna be a time when we’ll get our chance to run things. How do you think this group is planning to take over the government? You know there’s no way we can fight the Federal troops. We been through that before and I must say we didn’t and don’t have the men and resources to do it again. You’ll not get me in trouble this time. I won’t be going with you, and who is this person who wants us at the meeting anyway?

      “Frank Olliver and ‘Fessor Hendon wants you there tonight, that’s who,” Tim answered.

      “Frank Olliver! That’s enough for me. If Frankie’s involved, there’s got to be trouble connected. You can go, but you can count me out.”

      “Wait a minute, John. There was a time when you two was closer than two straws in a broom. Frankie don’t mean you no trouble.”

      “That was a long time ago. He’s changed a lot these past few years. We speak to one another, but that’s about it. If Frankie’s involved, you can bet trouble ain’t far behind,” John said.

      “You know why you’re on the outs with Frankie,” Tim replied. “You ain’t ever forgive him for not showing up down at Newton Station and when he up and married—”

      “Stop it right there, Tim. You don’t know what you talking about. Don’t ever mention her name to me. That’s a part of my life that just don’t exist no more, you hear me.”

      “Sorry, I was just trying to tell you that they wanted you there for some reason and if’n you don’t care much for Frankie, then you know the ‘Fessor means you no harm.”

      Professor Hendon was the only teacher John and Tim had ever had and even though he could be eccentric at times and had a reputation of being a ladies man, he had the men’s respect. To John, this was the man who opened his eyes to learning and always challenged him to never accept mediocrity.

      “The Professor,” John said, regaining interest. “He really wants me there?”

      I can’t believe that he wants me to go with him tonight, John thought. It seems like I should still be just a student to him, listening to him lecture about the poets, the art of speaking and politics. Politics, that’s what he enjoyed the most. No wonder he is interested in this meeting. Politics was always his first love.

      “If’n ‘Fessor Hendon will be going, then I might just tag along with you,” John said, changing his mind. “It might be interesting just to see what this group is up to, but y’all better not get me into any kind of trouble with the law.”

      “Won’t be no trouble, John. If’n you don’t like what you hear then you can quietly bow out, and I’m sorry about what I almost said. I know’d it was a ticklish subject.”

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